Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead,
and being an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked
to the east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway
to the meridian. The glare of its straight rays and those reflected
from the shining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and
interfere with the accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for
small favors.
Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the
lay of the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small
but deep hole out toward the east and that it was about the required
distance away. This had been dug by a man who had labored all day in
the burning sun to make an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in
the manner he had seen the Apaches cook it. Mr. Travennes blessed
hobbies, specific and general, stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared
from sight as the surprised Mr. Cassidy started forward to offer his
assistance.
Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that
his help was not needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste
covered the distance separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr.
Travennes swore in self-congratulation and regret. Mr. Cassidy's shots
barked a cactus which leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked
several clouds of alkali near that person's nose, causing him to
sneeze, duck, and grin.
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